When in Rome
by I'll get to it.eventually
Summary: When Jack was a young spirit-ten years, five months, three days and roughly six hours old; he accidentally attracted the attention of the wrong people. Now he's fighting for his life with some idiot calling himself the Bogeyman whilst still trying to spread snow on the side. At least he gets free coffee out of it.
1. Rise of the Colosseum

When Jack was a young spirit-ten years, five months, three days and roughly six hours old; he accidentally attracted the attention of the wrong people.

Not that there was a right kind of people at that point, but these people were certainly some of the worst people he could be noticed by. He'd been spreading winter and feeling overall lonely and abandoned when he'd seen what looked like tear in the universe.

It was jagged, like the air had just flattened into cloth and been cut straight through, and he could see through it to...something. He'd hovered a little closer, and then he'd poked it with his stick.

Bad idea.

Almost immediately, he'd found himself pulled through to the other side of the rip. He fell on his face on some sort of stone.

"Owww..." he whined softly, rubbing his forehead. When he got up, he looked around-he'd never stood on brickwork before, never having been inside. He was surrounded by stone on all sides, paths and pillars going in crazy angles over his head and under his feet and everywhere. He couldn't figure out the gravity of the place, since some pillars were sideways and some bridges upside down and some platforms, like the one he was standing on, at any angle across the cavern. It was all dark, but there was a slight grey glow from most surfaces-enough to see, but not enough to defeat the shadows. The whole place looked abandoned, but had no spider webs or dust anywhere. It was eerie.

"Hello?" Jack had called cautiously. There had been no answer, just a tiny slither and stir of shadows he'd dismissed as nothing at the time-a foolish mistake he would never make again.

He had walked to the edge of the platform, then gone for broke and jumped off of it. Almost immediately, gravity pulled _up_ and he fell on to one of the bridges he'd seen earlier. Jack laughed. This was fun!

He spent the next hour or so simply jumping around, learning the physics of the place and how to work with its odd gravity. His only worry was that he couldn't feel the Wind, but he was sure he'd be able to find it soon. Besides, flying would be hard with the twisting paths of gravity in this place, he would constantly be slamming into things.

Eventually, though, he wanted to go home. He began to search for an exit, hoping there would be another portal around like the one he'd come in through. He covered a lot of distance, learning as he went how the world there worked. Apparently, if he jumped right, he could get just about anywhere he wanted to-he could even fall for what felt like miles before hitting a platform, but he always landed lightly enough not to get hurt. It was like a giant playground!

Soon he found a tear, but there was a man made of shadow in front of it. He had no definition, looking more like a silhouette than a man. Jack didn't know it then, but the shifting shadows earlier had been this man being summoned into existence.

"Excuse me? Hello, what's this place?" Jack didn't hold out much hope that this man would hear him, but he supposed it was only polite to try.

To his surprise, the man gave the impression of turning around to face him-it was hard to tell, with only the outline to discern where his face was. It held a sword out at the ready.

"Woah, woah, no need to freak out, I just need to get back home! I think I got a bit lost, and that portal might take me home, I hope," Jack informed him, holding his empty hand in front of him and his staff behind him in a signal of peace.

The shadow man dashed at him, swinging his sword wildly. Jack only barely ducked in time to miss it, bending to shoot frost at the man with his staff. The man dodged, but Jack was able to flip his staff and use the momentum to swing it. He hit the man with the butt of his staff and the shadow dissipated.

"Huh," Jack mumbled to himself, "that was weird."

Whatever, he had places to go. He jumped through the tear.

* * *

The first thing he felt on the other side of the hole in the universe was _heat_. It was so hot he could barely stand it, and in a panic he called up as much snow and ice as he could. He needed it to stop being so hot, it was _melting_ him!

In his haste to cool down, he called up a large blizzard. Whatever this too-hot place was, it would be getting a couple feet of snow. Served it right for being so hot. Now how to get home?

_Jack!_

Oh! He could hear the Wind again!

_Where are we, Wind? I went through a tear in the world, and I went to this place with bridges and things in it, and then there was weird gravity and I killed a shadow! But now I'm here, and it's _way_ too hot!_

_Australia. I looked everywhere for you, I was so worried! Warn me next time!_

'Warn me next time,' not 'don't do that.' That was what Jack liked about the Wind. It was as free as he was, and it never tried to stop him from doing anything. All it wanted was for Jack to make some attempt at caution and it would be happy with him. It was good to hear he was back in his world, too! Even if he was probably on the wrong side of the equator.

...Whoops. He'd made it snow in Australian summer. Or fall. Or something. Jack giggled to himself.

The next three hours were spent fleeing from an irate Easter Bunny, who kept yelling about ruining Easter and obnoxious sprites refusing to follow their schedules. Jack kept laughing the whole time, relieved to be home.

That was the Easter of 1768, and that was the first time it happened.

* * *

The second time it happened he was gone for an entire week, and the Wind nearly blew some entire towns over looking for him. He had to fight more shadow men that time, and he learned that they could be killed with frost with a little effort, or he could just hit them with his stick or fists or feet and they would poof away. He started using the odd gravity of the place to his advantage-the shadow men didn't seem to understand it very well, and he could buy some time or get rid of them entirely by getting into the right 'stream' of gravity and falling to a completely different bridge. He particularly liked trapping them in streams he himself had struggled to get out of. It gave him some vindictive pleasure to watch other people get trapped in the same places he had-the architecture in this place was ridiculous.

When he got back, Santa Claus told him that he was endangering children trying to blow down buildings like this, and that the Guardians were enemies he didn't want to make. Jack had quickly realized that the Wind had been looking for him...perhaps not quite as carefully as it could have. Wind didn't much care about human life. Jack had laughed and said that the unusually strong winds came because he lost something, but he'd found it, so they needn't worry any further about him. He hugged his staff a little closer to his body, implying that it was that that he'd lost and not the Wind that had lost him. Not a lot of people thought the Wind was its own spirit, and those who knew about it thought that Jack's Wind and the North Wind were completely different. Jack didn't feel the need to correct them on that assumption.

That was the second time.

* * *

The third time he actually tried to figure out what was going on, and who was creating the portals. He warned the wind before leaving, so there were no natural disasters that time. He didn't find a cause for the portals, though. When he came back, the only Guardian who actually cared about him was at his pond. Sandy wanted to know if he was okay, worried as he was by the unusually balmy winter. Jack was pretty sure Sandy had thought he'd died.

Jack never told the Guardians about the other world. He didn't really need to-at that point in his life, they were kind of distant figures, people who enforced not hurting children but otherwise didn't leave their various palaces. He would regret that later, when he became a Guardian himself.

That was the third time.

* * *

There was a fourth time, and a fifth. Jack didn't remember them very clearly. He probably just went in, killed some shadow men, explored some, and left.

The sixth time, he wasn't trying to go through the portal. He was flying with the Wind one second, and the next there was a tear right in front of him. He fell through before he could even tell what was going on.

When he came back, the Wind had waited for him without causing too much disturbance, though it scolded him that it had been _so worried!_ and _don't you ever do that again!_ He was just a bit alarmed by how little choice he'd had-he hadn't been able to stop flying in time to avoid the rip in the universe. Normally he just walked through the portal because it was fun and he wanted to.

The seventh time he didn't get even a second's warning for, he was having a snowball fight one second and the next he was being attacked by shadow men.

There was no warning for the eighth, or the ninth, or the tenth or eleventh or twelfth.

On the thirteenth he discovered that he could feel an odd pressure for about five minutes before the world tore itself apart under him. It was like a cloud was being overused, like when it had run out of snow but Jack forced it to continue with willpower and magic, except in the fabric of space instead of the sky. Finally it gave out and broke under the pressure, and Jack fell.

The fourteenth he knew what to look for. He ran as soon as he felt the pressure building up, but it followed him and he was caught.

Fifteen through twenty-two he kept trying to escape it, or stay still so he couldn't walk through a portal, but he was swallowed each time.

It wasn't so fun anymore.

Twenty-three through five hundred thirty-one he just killed shadow men and went on with his life. Whenever he was gone too long he would have to deal with North asking him why he was attacking (he never was, but the Wind got so very worried that it couldn't help being rough on people), or Sandy wondering if he was quite alright, since he wasn't spreading winter. North he could tell any number of lies to, or simply laugh and fly away without saying anything at all, and he could always manage to reassure Sandy with little trouble.

Something changed on time five hundred thirty-two. On five hundred thirty-two, there was someone else there when the tear in the world opened.

Jack had slowly become aware of other portals opening in places where he didn't fall through them. Somewhere between time three hundred and time three hundred and twelve, he'd even sat just outside of that portal and waited. As soon as someone had wandered through-a deer-the portal had closed. Jack had never found the thing's corpse, but there had been blood all over the next time he'd gone to the other world.

Jack tried to go through all the portals he'd felt opening since then. He didn't want other people going through and getting slaughtered-the shadows were getting stronger and faster, and there were more of them now. If he hadn't fought them for all his life, he might not have been able to kill them.

But now, on time five hundred and twelve, there was someone already going through.

He was tall, male, and human-looking, but he could see the portal, so he was either a spirit or a very incredible human being. He had dark hair and grey skin, with a long black robe covering his body.

"Wait!" Jack called, but he was already through.

Quickly, Jack darted after him and barely made it through before the portal closed. He didn't know this man, but he wasn't about to let him get himself killed.

"Idiot! _Why_ did you have to go through the portal? Now I have to babysit you until you manage to get out!" Jack complained, not really expecting to be heard. Sure, the man _seemed_ like a spirit, but it was one thig to _seem_ like a spirit, and a completely different thing to respond to Jack when he talked to you.

"What are you babbling about?" the man-no, he saw Jack, he had to be a spirit-asked crossly.

Jack scowled at him for his tone, even as he inwardly rejoiced that someone was talking to him."Look, I don't know much about this world, but have you ever walked through one of the tears?"

The spirit shook his head.

"Of course. Someone can finally see me, and it's the guy who's about to get himself killed. Now, we have about five minutes before the shad-"

"No one can see you?" The spirit interrupted.

Jack shook his head, annoyed that the spirit wasn't even _trying_ to stay alive. "Look, we don't have time for this! In about three minutes we're gonna get torn apart by shadow men, and then it won't mater _who_ can see _who_. I don't know what your powers are, but it works well to hit them with just about anything, if you give 'em a good whack." Jack smacked his staff on his hand for emphasis.

"Pitch Black, the Bogeyman. Pleased to meet you," the spirit extended his hand, but he didn't look terribly pleased to be meeting Jack. He wasn't really listening to Jack trying to keep him alive, either. Well, might as well introduce himself and leave, because this guy was dead anyway and Jack couldn't afford to be babysitting someone else when it took up all of his concentration to keep himself alive.

"Jack Frost, I'm sure you can guess what I do." Jack shook the hand offered to him, making sure to spark some cold into it. The more of his magic there was in this guy, the better he'd be able to tell when he died, and it would be useful to be able to track him until then. Hopefully if Jack avoided this Pitch Black, he'd avoid most of the shadow men as well.

Jack let go of the man's hand. "Well, I've given you up for dead, so I'm gonna get out of here while I have a chance!" Jack waved cheerfully before jumping upwards as high as he could, barely getting into a stream of gravity that would lead quickly to a far away platform he could get ready for fights on. He summoned a light coating of frost all over his body, especially thick on his core-armor was far too heavy for his fighting style, but the frost made it easier to ice over injuries and stop himself from bleeding to death, which had saved his life more than once. It also made him feel better-there was something reassuring about being literally surrounded by his own element.

Within minutes, the first shadow men came. He heard a distant yell of surprise, and then a battle cry. It appeared that Mr. Black was getting the brunt of the attack, so he had some more time before he had to fight directly. Jack iced the platform and the surrounding pillars and bridges over. It took a long time, but he had finally gotten the nerve to be comfortable with sliding uncontrollably off the platforms without a second's notice when someone attacked him. It was a quick escape, if a bit alarming. Besides, it was better that the shadow men slipped and dispelled themselves than if they killed him.

A shadow man appeared in front of him, and Jack grinned dangerously. Time to get going.

That was the five hundred and twelfth time.

* * *

They continued. Much to Jack's surprise, the Bogeyman didn't die. Soon, his presence was a reassuring life in the back of Jack's mind, present but barely there unless he was right next to Jack, which was rare. They occasionally saw each other whilst doing their jobs in the real world, and they would snark back and forth about how each had not died yet, but there was little real interaction.

Two thousand, eight hundred and forty-three times in. The Bogeyman was still only being kidnaped from his daily life, so Jack was alone whenever he used portals that weren't intended for him. He was fairly sure he and Black were kidnaped at the same times, perhaps with the hope that they'd kill each other. Maybe it was just random. He didn't know.

Jack was alone, this time. He'd just barely gotten to the hole in the universe before a little human girl who couldn't see him-she'd been just about to go through the portal, and Jack didn't wasnt to think about what would have happened if he'd been any later. However, when he got to the other world, he found Mr. Black still there. Had he gotten kidnaped separately from Jack?

It didn't matter. Black was standing on a bridge, surrounded and slowly getting overwhelmed by shadow men. He was going to die if Jack didn't step in.

Well, Jack had given him up for dead before and he'd lived. Maybe he'd come out on top.

The shadow men swarmed at Black, but there was a moment where he jerked to meet Jack's eyes. Black's eyes were desperate. Jack thought he really might die. Then, without thinking, Jack dove into action, jumping into a gravity stream and bringing his staff down like a baseball bat with all the force he could muster on the shadow men. He took advantage of the crook of his staff, hooking shadow men around their necks or waists and throwing them to the side. Sometimes they were up in half a second and fighting again, but sometimes he could hurl them into a gravity stream and get rid of them. They still didn't know how to navigate this plane. Jack used his natural flexibility and his hard-learned parkour to put in more deadly attacks, kicks and flips that dispelled and killed the shadow men.

As Jack did his absolute best to lighten up the onslaught of shadow men, Black recollected himself and began doing his part. He used shadows, it seemed, which was ironic if one thought about who he was fughting. He would grab the shadow men with his own shadows, impaling them or hurling them off of the platform. He was holding a scythe, as well, which he would swing wildly at everything that was too close for comfort. Whenever he stabbed the shadow men through, they disappeared just as quickly as they did when Jack hit them. Useful.

In no time they'd defeated enough shadows that they weren't being completely overwhelmed any longer, and the remaining men were hanging back for a moment. Jack was glad of the reprieve-normally he had enough traps set up and managed to flee enough that he had never had to face that many shadows at once.

"Not bad, Mr. Bogeyman," he panted, standing back-to-back with the larger spirit.

"You could have done worse, I suppose," Black sniffed.

Jack laughed, keeping his staff ready for the next wave of enemies. So that's how this was gonna be, then? Two could play at that game. "At least I didn't need a little winter sprite to save me from the scary shadows," he taunted.

Black scoffed. "Back those words up with actions and you might actually be worth the space you take up."

That was all they had time for before the shadow men attacked. Then they only had time to yell out directions to each other as the assault on their shared bridge increased. The sounds of fighting and the _schlik!_ as shadow men were stabbed through by Black's scythe were only interrupted by cries of "Behind you!" "Right! No, other right! _Right_!" and "You idiot, you're going to get the both of us killed!"

It was the most fun Jack had ever had in the other world.

Finally, the shadow men were defeated, and Jack painstakingly led Pitch to the portal. Pitch had no navigational ability at all, it turned out, and couldn't use shadows to move around safely lest he fall into a gravity stream and lose contact with his shadows entirely until he hit something. Apparently he needed physical contact with a natural shadow to travel, so it was really a giant waste of time to even try shadow transportation. How he'd ever gotten out of the other world was beyond Jack, but he pledged to fix the shadow traveling thing at some point-shadow transportation would hopefully be faster than Jack yelling at Black and Black doing everything wrong.

With only a couple (a lot) of falls through the wrong streams, the two spirits made it out into the real world. They went their separate ways without saying anything-Black didn't even thank him for the save.

Jack sniffed. Black was a jerk anyway, and it wasn't like Jack needed people or anything. He was just fine on his own.

That was the two thousand, eight hundred and forty-third time.

* * *

Jack had lost track of how many times it had been shortly after four thousand and five hundred, but it was probably around then that they finally began to get to know each other. They were being kidnapped less often now, from nearly daily down to once a month or so. Jack was about one hundred years, fifty-three days, and some hours old, and the shadow men had continued getting stronger, so they needed one another to survive going to the other world. Also, in Pitch's words, "You won't die and you keep following me, so we may as well try to see why this keeps happening to us. Perhaps we have something in common that causes this."

Jack interpreted that as 'I'm lonely and you can't leave me without getting killed by shadow men; let's be friends!'

Pitch tried to kill him for that, but that was okay. He wouldn't really kill him any more than Jack would kill Pitch. They were far too dependent on one another's alliance.

Finally, though, they had something of a strategy meeting/bonding session. Mostly they worked on that first part.

"I'm telling you, using my ice isn't going to do much. It can't freeze them in place, they just phase through it! I'm really more useful just guarding your back while you take care of ranged attacks, your shadows are practically everywhere anyway. You let me take care of everything trying to immediately kill us, and I'll let you go ahead and stop them from grouping up and rushing us." Jack argued for the nth time.

"If we kill them all before they get close, we won't need you to bother with killing them at close range! Destroying your enemies is _much_ more effective than protecting yourself from an attack-the best defense is a good offense!"

"We'll never be effective enough to take them all out before they get close! We'll miss one, get sneaked up on, and get ourselves killed. I can set up traps and ice the whole place over before they come, but that'll slip _you_ up if you ever have to move!" Jack argued, slamming his hands on the table they sat at. The coffee shop they were in was rather at odds with their conversation matter, but Jack had insisted, because he didn't like the looks of the creepy Cave of Doom Pitch inhabited, and Pitch refused to have such an important meeting on Jack's pond in full moonlight, and hated too much sunlight. The customers were giving the table littered with papers and battle plans odd looks, but their lack of belief prevented them from seeing anything out of the ordinary, like the papers they were still marking up with battle plans or the flying pens.

"Fine. I will warn you of the-shadow men? Is that what you call them?" At Jack's nod, Pitch continued. "I will warn you of the fiends' approach and try to destroy them before they reach us. If ever they learn ranged attacks or acquire bows, I will disarm and kill those shadow men who attempt to snipe us. You will guard my body as I focus my awareness on the shadows, as well as kill the shadow men who aren't in shadow or who are too close to us for comfort. If there is something I don't notice or am too busy to deal with, you will use your experience navigating the gravity of the Colosseum to get to it and destroy it. Is this acceptable?" Pitch asked Jack, meeting his eyes over the fourty-fifth battle plan he was sketching out. The Colosseum was his favored word for the other world, and to be honest, Jack thought it was a pretty cool name.

"I guess. You'll be taking care of anything that looks like a significant threat and warning me when someone comes? Sounds fair to me," Jack decided, stealing some coffee off of a spacey-looking waitress. She didn't appear to notice its absence, which may or may not have been because she didn't believe in Jack-Jack was fairly sure she wouldn't notice either way.

"That's one thing finished, then. We'll work on the code next." Pitch ordered. Pitch had a tendency to act as if he were a general and Jack was his underling, but the fuss he kicked up about being nothing like a general was too exhausting to deal with to bother calling him on it. Now that Jack thought about it, it was the perfect way to get away with being a jerk-just make it too difficult to confront and no one will bother.

The code they would be developing was being created for long-distance communication. They generally appeared in different parts of the Colosseum, and they weren't too sure whether the shadow men could understand their speech-sometimes they were sure they could, sometimes the opposite-so they would need a basic code to make sure they could warn each other of danger and alert each other of their locations.

Jack sipped his coffee. He remembered a book he had stolen once-the writing had only been decent and the plot terrible, but he had loved one aspect of it. It had a whistling code that was simple and conveyed information fairly accurately. Most importantly of all, it was cool. Nothing really extravagant, but cool all the same.

"How about this," Jack suggested. "One whistle means yes, two means no. Three is I'm under attack, but it's not gonna kill me, and four is what's going on. Sound good?"

"How will we signal our positions if we don't need to know what the other person's situation is? How do we signal that we're in a place that would be difficult to fight in, but we're still alive and not under attack? What if one of us is injured and needs help? This code will have to convey all of that, and we will have to know how to respond to each whistle." Pitch argued.

Jack pouted. He thought the code was brilliant! "Well, if you're so smart, why don't _you_ come up with something?"

Pitch gave him an exasperated look. "Very well, if I _must_ do all the work around here...one whistle means yes still, but if there's not a yes or no question asked, such as if four whistles were given or there was no message at all, one whistle will also mean that the whistler is not under attack and is in a good position to fend off attackers. Two whistles in the same situation means that there are no immediate threats, but the position or situation of the whistler isn't good and the listener should stay away. Are you following?"

Jack blinked rapidly. "Sorry, spaced out for a minute. Can you repeat that last bit?"

Pitch looked to be questioning the life decision that had brought him here.

"One whistle means you're safe, just broadcasting your location. Basically, it can be an all-clear whistle. Two whistles means there's something wrong and I should stay away and wait for you, but you can handle it. It's the opposite of an all-clear whistle. Can your simplistic mind handle _that_ much?" Pitch leaned back, looking for all the world like a college professor who hade just been made to teach a classroom of kindergarteners. Jack nodded slowly-he was pretty sure he got it. One-good. Come here. Two-bad, but not terrible. I'll be there in a minute.

"What if we're in real trouble?" Jack asked.

"Finally, a decent question! I was beginning to wonder if I wasn't better off without you. If one of us is injured, but still able to whistle and not about to die, whistle a simple tune. This should suffice." Pitch whistled a quick, jumpy five notes. The abrupt nature of the melody would cover panting or flinches in the middle of whistling, Jack noted.

"Right. And what if we're just screwed? As in, I'm-about-to-die, they-suddenly-got-stronger, run-while-you-can screwed? The kind of screwed that would mean that there's nothing anyone can do to help anymore, and the only thing the other can do is keep themselves alive?" Jack asked, hesitant to even suggest it but certain it needed to be said.

"Then whistle three times, then three times again, then three times again. The listener will know to leave you to die as quickly as possible, and will attempt to kill you on sight unless you whistle that it's safe again. We don't know if these shadow men can possess us if they catch us." Pitch stated decisively. "Now, on to the treaty."

"Wait, wait! Let me make sure I know this. There are three different whistles for bad stuff, right? Or two, I guess. Three whistles for an attack, or enemies nearby-that means that we should keep our guard up and try to find each other. Repeat that three times and it means run for your life. Two whistles means I don't like my situation, so I'll come to you. Am I right so far?" Jack asked.

Pitch looked irritated, but nodded.

"Right, then. One whistle means...yes, or I'm safe, so get over here. Four whistles means where are you and what's going on. I think that's it, right?"

Pitch nodded again. "You're correct, and this tune-" he whistled his five notes again "-means that you're injured and you need help immediately. Have you _finally_ got it?"

Jack pouted. "Yes, I've finally got it. Maybe you'll appreciate that I'm being careful to learn this when it _finally_ saves your life. Treaty time?"

The treaty they were going to write was a basic thing, or Jack hoped it would be, basically a contract saying that they would defend each other and not leave one another to die. Pitch would probably want to add a million clauses into it, but Jack had a job to do and he would be able to cut it down by leaving if it took too long to write this thing.

Pitch got a new piece of paper from somewhere, Jack wasn't sure where. "We should start out with a basic agreement that even you will understand, agreed?"

Jack's pout turned into a scowl. "You do realize that I'm actually fairly intelligent, right? Somehow I think you missed that memo."

Pitch gasped, looking utterly gobsmacked. "You're..._intelligent?_ But I could have sworn you dove into a fight you weren't involved in to save a stranger from shadow men that were trying to kill you! I suppose I must have been mistaken and it really wasn't what it seemed like, then. Maybe some other hero complex was running around the Colosseum. I really am _terribly_ sorry for having mistaken your identity."

Jack leveled his very best unimpressed look at Pitch. "Har de har har, you're hilarious. Let's just get this over with, and then I don't have to deal with your...'wit.'"

Pitch sniffed and said, "I am infinitely wittier than you can appreciate as an uncultured youngling. But since you have no hope of ever understanding how very clever I am, I suppose I will consent to helping you create this treaty. The premise, I suggest, should be that we will defend one another from shadow men and any immediate threats to our lives outside of as well as inside the Colosseum. Is that acceptable?"

By the time they broke for the evening, Pitch having to attend to night-terrors and Jack having stalled his own duties for too long, they had one agreement with about a million clauses. They had to meet at least once every two months in complete peace to negotiate any changes to the treaty, strategize, and exchange information; if they were ever fighting each other in the real world, they wouldn't allow that to change their working relationship and they would still protect one another inside the Colosseum and keep each other from dying outside of it; They would respect the whistle signals at all times and never, ever use them for pranks; they would always be able to meet each other without getting attacked inside or outside of peacetime; and, should they be having a peaceful meeting, they would not sabotage anything the other was working for while meeting or with information gathered in the meeting; a bunch of things like that. They even set up a special kind of meeting that they would have to be peaceful at no matter whether they were fighting or not.

Jack was wary of how many of the clauses were devoted to what would happen if they fought in the real world, but Pitch had assured him that it was only a matter of time until they were trying to kill each other just as much as save each other. He'd cited his job and Jack's protective instincts towards children, and Jack had known himself too well to claim that he wouldn't want to protect people from the Bogeyman. Even if fear was good for them, it still hurt and Jack didn't like it when people got hurt.

Overall, Jack was satisfied with their contract, their code, their battle strategies. Everything they'd done today had reflected their needs and personalities, and most of all it would be easy to follow every agreement he'd made today-most of it had been based on what he would likely do anyway, and the only thing he'd have any trouble with would be not killing Pitch, and indeed saving him from death should the need arise. If the Bogeyman made one more comment on Jack's intelligence, he might need to break that clause a little.

* * *

**Whoops, my finger slipped. Oh well, I guess I'll send this nonsense to my beta. Oops, I accidentally made it really long, I'm sure she won't mind. Oh dear, I accidentally fell in love with this. But I won't publish it, so I won't get reviews, so I won't feel inclined to continue it.**

**...Oops. Oh well, I tried. This thing just wouldn't leave me alone, either, so now I'm gonna do it. This is gonna be a thing. Thanks for the read, Ig out!**


	2. Blueberry Shakes are Important

Jack spent the next few years doing pretty much whatever he wanted, with a few exceptions. He went to the Colosseum when a portal opened, killed a bunch of shadow men-which Pitch insisted on calling Opponents, because he said shadow men made them sound too much like they were Pitch's creations-spread snow, and brought a little fun to people who needed it. Wars came and went, and Jack chased some people out of Russia a couple times. Okay, a lot of times, but who was counting? The Guardians did their jobs. The seasonals did their jobs. Even Pitch did his job, and Jack would sometimes join him in scaring people out too late at night. It was fun to make people jump.

He and Pitch were spending some time together, even if the two of them argued half the time and tried to kill each other the other half. Jack would drag Pitch to theater productions and Pitch would whine about how he'd destroyed things much more spectacular than whatever they were watching, or that 'you can fly anyway, why are flying trapeze so spectacular?'

Pitch, in return, would get Jack to go to great cultural events, or moments that would later make history. Jack was the first-ever photobomber, with Pitch as his accomplice. He loved to see how many important people he could alarm with a well-placed breath of chilly wind, or a quick spark of pure cold on the back of their necks. Especially kings, they had the _funniest_ reactions!

After quite some time, though, Pitch began to grow more distant. He was busy more often, and had less time to go to ridiculous musicals or important elections. He always met with Jack at the agreed-upon bimonthly treaty meetings, though, so Jack wasn't too alarmed. Scaring people was hard work, even if Jack saw Pitch in the field less and less often. Unlike Jack, Pitch had a growing population to influence. Unless Jack was asked to take care of the Southern hemisphere as well as the northern, he really had a very set job-it wasn't like the Earth was growing, even if its population was. He just did winter in the winter, and spread fall around in the fall. Pitch had to spread fear to everyone, so he was probably just adjusting to all the new people in the world. He'd have spare time soon.

At one treaty meeting, Pitch wanted to add something. More than their usual quibbling over technicalities or bothering with adding clauses whose only purpose was to prevent loopholes, he wanted to add something important.

"I want to make it so we'll have a whistle for a meeting. If one of us wants to meet peacefully, alone, with the other, we should have a way to signal that in the real world, regardless of current events," Pitch proposed, deftly knocking Jack's hand away from the latte he'd been about to steal.

Jack was puzzled. "Why would we ever need that? We made the signals so the sh-the _Opponents_, sorry-so the Opponents wouldn't understand our nefarious plans as we made them. We're kind of automatically alone, unless you count the Opponents, and we're probably trying to kill them at the time of the whistle anyway." He carefully snatched the latte away again, yelping and dropping it into Pitch's hands a second later. That thing was hot!

"If you didn't want to get burned, you should have left my drink alone. Besides, I wasn't talking about the Colosseum. I meant that we should be able to declare a temporary truce in the real world, if we're ever fighting. It's only a matter of time until we begin warring, so we should set up a way to have a temporary truce." Pitch took a long drink out of the latte, smirking at Jack over the rim of the cup as he did so. Jack scowled and iced his feet over.

"You're so focused on how we're gonna be killing each other soon! It's been, what, three hundred years now? I'm about three hundred-" three hundred twenty years, five months, a week, six days, and approximately fourteen hours since he'd come out of the pond, in fact "-so that means it's about around two hundred fifty years that we haven't been trying to kill each other actively. We haven't even had an epic betrayal! Why are you still so fixated on that? Can I suggest therapy?"

Pitch scowled as he shook out his frozen feet, trying to look dignified as he did so. It was hilarious to watch, really-all wounded pride warring with owowow that's COLD-but he ruined the whole image when he began arguing back with Jack. Didn't he see how much harder it made Jack's life that Pitch wasn't a mindless underling he could harass for reactions without argument? Then again, Jack didn't have any underlings, so he wasn't sure if he would harass Pitch if Pitch had been a minion of some sort. "It will happen eventually, and then you'll see that I was always right!" He swore, looking almost like he was trying to take himself seriously while saying that.

Oh wait, he _was_. That was even funnier.

Jack laughed and said, "Okay, fine. We'll make a truce-whistle. How's this?" He whistled the chorus of 'Whistle While you Work' and stole a blueberry shake off a waitress.

Pitch looked annoyed as shadows gathered ominously around the two of them. "Take this seriously," he ground out between gritted teeth that Jack swore were getting sharper. The thickening shadows stole the shake right out of Jack's hands, and Pitch suddenly looked much less threatening and much more smug. Wait, so he'd pretended to begin a temper tantrum just to steal Jack's drink? Unfair! "No, it should be something simpler, like this." Pitch whistled a simple three-note melody. "Do you think you can remember that? Or should I make it into a children's song, so you can be sure to understand it?" He smiled at Jack, all saccharine-sweet and razor sharp teeth.

Jack pouted at his lack of drink some more for good measure before responding. "Huh? Sorry, what was that? I was busy being betrayed because someone I loved and trusted very much stole my precious blueberry goodness away from me. But I guess your problems must be more important than that deep-cutting betrayal. Here, let me sweep the broken pieces of my heart out of the way so that we can mock my musical preferences, that's fine," he faked sobbing into his hands, then pulled himself together with a few sniffles. "But actually, sure. That's a fine code, I guess. It'll come in handy if we ever do fight, and it's looking more likely with every drink you steal,"

Pitch was unaffected by his 'obvious brokenheartedness' and merely nodded. "I'm glad you have your priorities set straight. Now, was there anything else?" Look at him, just ignoring Jack's implication of future revenge! Like Jack's idea of revenge for drink-stealing was something to sniff at! Boy, was he an arrogant one. But Jack could have been stuck with much worse, he supposed. He could have...

Well...

He was sure there was someone worse out there than Pitch Black, at least when your life had to rest in his hands. At least Pitch hadn't started mocking his height yet.

"I would like to motion to add something to the treaty! All blueberry goodness must be sent directly to me and remain in my possession until you poison it and I throw it at you!" Jack suggested eagerly.

Pitch rested his head in his hands for only a moment before announcing, "Then this meeting is over. I'll see you in the Colosseum, Frost," and disappearing into the shadows.

It took Jack all of three seconds to realize what was missing.

"Hey! That jerk, he never gave me back my drink!"

Oh, right, and he hadn't told Jack why he kept disappearing. That, too.

Ah well. He'd just corner Pitch next time.

* * *

He did not corner Pitch next time. In fact, he continued not cornering Pitch until he saw something flash by one evening. A shadow.

Was that Pitch? One of Pitch's minions?

As it turned out, it was the Easter Bunny. Greeeat, that was just what Jack needed. To be cornered by one on a long list of spirits that didn't like him, and then to be kidnaped.

It only got better when they tried to make him a Guardian. Jack? A Guardian? Yeah, right-he needed Pitch's help to keep _himself_ alive, he'd be able to do absolutely nothing for a bunch of kids who couldn't even _see_ him.

Well, that wasn't true. He could remember a couple of times when he'd defended children quite well from ill-intentioned spirits. But that generally meant that Jack would have some sort of near-death experience, since he wasn't used to using his powers instead of his staff to attack people and would thusly fight clumsily and with no real experience. If he wasn't whacking people with his stick or using a couple of other weapons and fighting styles he'd learned over the years, Jack was useless in a fight.

But even if that weren't true, Jack would make a terrible Guardian. It was even worse when he learned that Pitch was the enemy. Yeah, no. Not happening.

But then he was dragged into a back room, and he was quite sure that he was going to get killed by Santa Claus, and then the sleigh was too cool to resist, and, and...

Well, what it boiled down to was that Jack and Pitch were both in the Tooth Palace. Briefly. They were there for a confrontation, Pitch mocked him a little, and then when Pitch ran away Jack was kidnaped for the second time in twenty four hours. Jack had barely ever traveled through shadows before, but he felt it happen as Pitch disappeared into a rock formation.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you. Yet." Pitch intoned indifferently once they got to...somewhere. "Now, would you mind telling me what you were doing with them?"

Jack shrugged. "Um, whoops? I think I got kidnaped, but I'm not really sure. Maybe I wanted to see the sleigh."

Pitch muttered under his breath. "You don't _know_ if you were _kidnaped_ or not? Remind me again why I decided to put my life in the hands of an idiot."

Jack grinned-Pitch had left himself open with that one. "I think it happened when you were helpless and surrounded, and I heroically came to your rescue! Now, you don't have to build a monument in thanks, but I would appreciate at least a shrine."

"Never mind. You and the Guardians deserve each other. What happens from here on out is irrelevant to our working relationship as per the treaty in clause A, parts one through thirteen, clauses C and D in their entirety, c-" Pitch was interrupted from what was going to be a mind-numbingly boring lecture by Jack's need to get the final jab in before they ended up on the battlefield again.

"You want to talk about our relationship? Honey, you could have just asked! You know, I never knew for sure if you loved me or not, but now I can always look back upon how nice you're being now, taking me out even though you were busy taking over the world to talk about-" Jack's sugar-coated mocking was cut off in return by the transportation back to Tooth's realm. Well, if that was how it was gonna be...this meant war!

Pitch was gone when he came back-of course he was, the Guardians had chased him through a crack in the rocks when he had kidnaped Jack for a time-out. He'd be stupid to come back when he sent Jack back.

Jack floated around the Tooth Palace for a minute or so before he found the Guardians near a mural.

"Jack! Are you okay? When you weren't there, we were worried that-" Tooth flew closer to him, hovering worriedly a few inches away, and Baby Tooth chirped and cooed in agreement.

"Relax, I'm fine! This place of yours is a maze, you know that? I have no idea how you even get around, it's so big!" He responded, gently easing himself away so that she wouldn't be alarmed by the movement but would also be out of his personal space. "Did I miss anything?"

They'd filled him in that no, he had not missed anything, and told him about the importance of belief even though Pitch had gone over it not five minutes ago for everyone to hear, and then Tooth had told him about the memories.

The memories.

_His_ memories.

He'd _been_ someone once! A _person_, someone who didn't get teleported to the Colosseum to fight every other month or so, someone with a _family_ and maybe even a little sister or brother who could see him!_ Him_! Jack Frost!

Well, maybe he'd been an only child, but there hadn't exactly been a lot of only children when he'd been born. Maybe he hadn't even been born then, maybe he floated around the lake a while before waking up that night. Maybe he'd been someone important. Maybe he'd been a hermit! A spectacularly young hermit!

That was when it got personal for Jack. He liked Pitch, but those memories were his and he was getting them back. That, and he needed revenge for his shake.

Then...Sandy.

Jack didn't like to think about what had happened with Sandy. Even though he came back later, the time after Sandy's death was the only time he'd ever seriously wanted to kill Pitch.

After that, things happened too fast and he didn't have time to think about them. Sophie was in the Warren, and Jack used his happy-flakes to get Bunny to look after her, and that too-familiar, painful voice from the teeth, and Easter, and the Guardians kicking him out because Pitch had decided to play mind games with him for a while...

He was angry with Pitch, hurt over Sandy's death, and not in a good state when they met in Antarctica. Both of them said things they would later regret. Pitch broke Jack's staff and left him in the bottom of a pit.

But then he tossed Jack's staff down with him, and Jack thought he understood. Pitch didn't want to have to hurt him, so he'd broken the staff. Without it, Jack couldn't talk to Wind, so he'd be effectively stuck in Antarctica until Pitch came to get him or until he next ended up in the Colosseum. Jack could feel none of the odd pressure in the world, so there would be no visits to the Colosseum soon, so Pitch probably meant to defeat the Guardians and then come back for Jack.

However, no long-term harm would come to Jack. Pitch and the Guardians would duke it out, and Jack couldn't get caught in the crossfire. In his creepy, cruel-to-be-kind way, Pitch was protecting Jack. It was probably his way of recognizing centuries of loyalty and companionship-as well as his way of keeping Jack alive, so that Jack could waltz in and save his sorry behind next time they went to the Colosseum. Well, Jack was having none of that!

He just...needed to convince his body to get up. Which he would. Eventually.

Maybe...maybe he could rest a bit. He was so tired...

Luckily, Baby Tooth was there to show him his memories. He wasn't going to just give up, no way! He was a Guardian! More than that he was a brother!

And then Pitch was soundly defeated, but he deserved it for stealing Jack's blueberry shake earlier. Blueberry shakes were sacred. Jack had to admit to a tiny bit of horror when Jamie ran straight through Pitch, but Pitch could handle one more kid running through him. The two of them had been dealing with that for centuries. Besides, the old man was too stubborn to let this get him down for long.

Jack was made a Guardian. Officially! The moon had finally made a move to show him his purpose! He'd almost begun thinking that his purpose was simply to fight in the Colosseum, but now he had a real job, something to do besides spreading winter and changing the leaves in fall.

There was one thing wrong, though. He wasn't sure if any of his actions broke the treaty. They hadn't made a specific clause against using one's own powers against the other, nor had they written anything about shutting someone in a hole in the ground. It wasn't impossible that he'd broken their contract anyway somehow, but on his third reread on the sleigh ride home he concluded that the treaty had enough 'if we fight each other, that's life' clauses that he was perfectly fine. Though he'd have to ask to add a 'don't touch my staff' clause or three next time he met with Pitch.

"Hey. Hey! Show pony! Hello? Can ya hear me?" A voice broke through his concentration.

"Bunny? What's up?" He asked, finally looking up from the ancient parchment.

"Ya been looking at that paper for a while, and there's a party set up in the globe room that you're ignoring. Tooth thought it was best to let you think a bit, but this is gettin' ridiculous! Why's that thing so important?" A gigantic rabbit was looming over him asking what his treaty with the Bogeyman was. Think fast!

"Um, it's a piece of paper. It has things on it. Did you say party? I like parties. We should go to the party. Yep. Paaarty!" He replied hurriedly, and the treaty was rolled up and back in his pocket before Bunny could snatch it out of his hands. He sprang out of his spot in the sleigh, wincing a little when he uncurled from the position he'd been in for hours. Wind flew him off to the globe room quickly, so that Bunny wouldn't have time to realize that he'd answered absolutely nothing. There was a yell of, "Frostbite, get back here!" from behind him, and he darted forward to hide behind North, cackling as he did so.

Clearly, this was the start of a beautiful friendship.

* * *

**Yep. The entire defeat of Pitch Black was partially because Jack was doing the right thing and was mad about Sandy, but mostly because Pitch stole his drink. He _really_ likes blueberry shakes.**

**Also, I hit 500 views in one day! YES! Granted, they were not all on the same story, but still! 500!**

**And this chapter goes out to the anonymous meh, who was very kind and supportive and also to Quraina, who was so kind and patient about this chapter it was ridiculous. THANK YOU SO MUCH, you two!**

* * *

**Review replies to the anonymous:**

**meh:**

**I was quote inspired, and while I intend to play with the Guardians a bit more before I let them find out that Pitch and Jack actually do know each other, I did add something like that to the Tooth Palace just because it was fun. Jack was moer worried about his smoothie than the treaty at that point, though. Also, tours of my brain happen every hour on the hour, just don't lose your tour guide or we'll never find you again. It's suspected that lost brain-tourers become plot bunnies.**

**Candle Dark:**

**Thank you! I didn't get to update very fast, but here it is!**


	3. The Guardians are Always Wrong

There was something, Bunny thought, that was a little..._off_ about their newest Guardian.

It was subtle, which was the first hint that something was wrong, because _nothing_ about Jack was subtle, but there was something that just seemed a little odd. And it wasn't the fact that  
Jack had a love for drinks that was frankly disturbing.

First of all, he had a habit of suddenly breaking off a conversation, looking like he was listening intently to something no one else could hear. Also, he always insisted that the wind was a spirit of its own and he could talk to it, which was just ridiculous. The only Wind in existence was the North Wind, and it didn't _tolerate_ anyone, much less talk to them.

Secondly, he would sometimes just _leave_. In the middle of a conversation, or while he was telling a story about snow or talking about whatever he talked about all the time, he would stop talking, announce that 'duty calls,' and fly off to goodness-knew-where. No one would be able to find him for days, sometimes weeks, after that.

The biggest tip-off was that he didn't like to talk about what he did during all those years alone. Bunny refused to believe that anyone could fill a solid three hundred years making frozen water in different patterns without going completely insane-more insane than Jack already was, anyway-but Jack wouldn't talk about whether he had any friends or what his hobbies were.

That line of thought was what led Bunny to where he was, in his Warren surrounded by the Guardians sans Jack. The larrikin had flown off again, and refused to say where to before disappearing.

"You noticed that Jack's always running off, right? North?" He asked the big man, who was crouched next to the tye-dye elf he'd brought into the Warren. He knew that North had been especially intent on getting Jack to find a steady place to live, with a roof over his head and a place to sleep, so North was the most likely to notice Jack's..._flighty_ nature.

"Yes! Is constantly fleeing Yetis. Jack makes prank then disappears, then I cannot find him for days!" North boomed in agreement, looking more proud than disturbed. Clearly something is a little strange in North's head, if he thinks pranks are something to be proud of.

But it did explain one thing. Bunny had wondered why North hadn't been more concerned before, but if Jack had been disguising his retreat with a prank each time, it was no wonder North didn't notice. All he knew of Jack was that he was a jokester, after all, so Jack would easily be able to play up that reputation to cover up anything unusual about his comings and goings.

That...involved a worrying amount of strategy and forethought. This might be more troubling than Bunny had imagined.

"Well, he makes a habit of running off in the middle of conversations, or talking to his wind like it's a person. I think he may have been a little more..._affected_ by his time before being a Guardian than we think." Bunny articulated carefully, not wanting to make it sound too bad lest everyone else get all in a huff before thinking about what he'd said.

Tooth looked concerned. Baby Tooth twittered at her.

"Jack did do that a couple of times at my palace, but we're so close to the equator, I thought..."

Bunny could see recognition and increasing worry dawning on the collective Guardians. Sandy gestured a checked box in what Bunny assumed to be agreement.

"No one could see him during that time. I think we're overwhelming him, and he runs off because it's too much for him to handle." Bunny decided as gently as he could.

It was the only logical conclusion he could reach. Why would Jack ever think the Wind was its own spirit, or suddenly feel the need to check something out _right that minute?_ He was lonely, but didn't know what to do with company. Clearly, that was the only explanation.

There was much unhappiness and questioning of any tiny peculiarities in Jack's behavior in that meeting, and in the end it was decided that they would have to keep a closer eye on Jack, as well as keep him from disappearing whenever he tried to run off. It would be different if Jack was, say, entering an alternate universe to fight to the death against impossible odds in order to prevent anyone else from going to the same alternate universe and getting themselves killed, but that just didn't happen in real life. Besides, everyone knew alternate universes didn't exist.

Just after leaving the Warren in order to enter an alternate universe to fight to the death against impossible odds in order to prevent anyone else from going to the same alternate universe and getting themselves killed, Jack wondered if he should have been a little less abrupt about needing to go check out the doorway to the Colosseum _right that instant._

_Nah_, he decided, _no one'll think anything of it. _Besides, the more time he dallied, the more likely it was that someone else would go through a portal on accident-better the Guardians think Jack a little odd than someone get themselves killed because Jack was following social norms and saying goodbye before leaving.

It wasn't like the Guardians would do anything about it, and the Colosseum was more important anyway.

He could sense that he was getting pretty close to the portal, so he pulled up and focused his senses. Pitch still couldn't sense portals, and neither of them could figure out why, so Jack may or may not end up alone this time. Thankfully, there were usually less shadow men when he was alone, though he was pretty sure that was lucky coincidence.

As soon as he hopped through the portal, he whistled four times. _You here anywhere?_

There was no answer for a second, then three quick whistles. That code had turned from 'I'm under attack' to a general alarm over time, so Jack whipped around to face the direction he'd heard it from, prepared for an attack and cursing himself for not looking behind him. _Always_ look for Opponents, that was the first thing you were supposed to do in the Colosseum! Luckily, he had good reflexes, so he quickly turned. He was just in time, too. There was a shadow man approaching him, and behind that was Pitch, balancing on the railing of the bridge they stood on.

A quick swipe with the staff took care of the shadow man, and Jack ran about three feet to his left before jumping straight up. If he was right about where they were...yes, the gravity stream led him straight to Pitch. The Bogeyman grabbed him before he could fall too far off the bridge, flipping him into a knot of shadow men. They were quickly dispatched of with the help of his staff and a couple of kicks, and he glanced at Pitch, who was concentrating on something else.

"What's up?" Jack asked. Outside of the Colosseum, and even inside of it, they could tease; but right now he needed to know if there was anything they really needed to worry about going on.

Pitch shook his head. "A dozen at three o'clock, five behind you, more about to appear at four thirty." He reported the locations of the shadow men. Didn't sound too bad.

Pitch had developed the ability to tell where the shadow men were appearing over time, similar to Jack's knowledge of the portals. Probably because Pitch was connected to shadows how Jack was connected to the world's energy, so they were both able to sense irregularities.

Jack skipped along his merry way to his right, since there weren't very many shadow men threateningly close. The bridge wasn't very thick, so it was only about two skips away. "Hey Pitch! There's nothing here! Did you lie to me?"

"They're on the next platform over, ignore them!" Pitch replied.

Well that wasn't any fun. He didn't even get to kill the shadow men? A whole dozen shadow men, and he was supposed to ignore them?

He glanced back at Pitch. Better keep an eye on the useless lump while Pitch was distracted with controlling his shadows from afar-Pitch was probably killing that dozen shadow men as they spoke. Stupid ranged powers.

"Hey, do I get any of the action?" Jack called, returning to Pitch. Just in case, he liked to be closer to the Bogeyman, because Pitch was completely helpless when he didn't have time to get to his scythe. Pitch was just better at killing the shadows from a distance.

Pitch paused for a moment, then said, "You want action? Fine, there's a whole company about to appear on this bridge. Better?"

Jack swore. A company was Pitch's way of saying 'more than Jack can handle alone,' and it meant that they'd have to both go close range. Pitch was creating his scythe even as he spoke.

"You just love to torture me, is that it? You just want me to be unhappy, and you steal my smoothies and get companies of shadow men to appear to make me upset. I'm on to you!" Jack pouted, putting ice in a ring on the ground around them. He'd prefer to put up a wall, or better yet run away, but Pitch always insisted that this was high-risk training and they needed to defeat the shadow men as opposed to running, so that they'd get better at fighting as opposed to retreat.

Jack thought he just wanted to avoid the gravity streams-Pitch really hated those.

The shadow men collected themselves from nothingness, and it was time to go.

The next hour and thirteen minutes was filled with the relentless hack-and-slash of battle, mixed with the duck-and-dodge and banter that came of fighting back-to-back with Pitch. The Bogeyman had vacated his perch on the rail to join Jack in the middle of the bridge, swinging his scythe and warning Jack to duck or dodge when necessary.

Right. Left. Stab, thunk, duck! Jump, contort, grab, throw, kick, duckduckduck!

"Wow, you _are_ trying to kill me! I thought we sorted out the Guardian thing, but I guess you're just gonna kill me despite the treaty! I knew it!" Jack exclaimed when a swing from Pitch's scythe came a little too close for comfort.

"This has nothing to do with your joining the dream team, I've been trying to kill you since your birth. Because I'm the bad guy like that." Pitch replied dryly, and Jack had to bend in ways that he was _not_ supposed to bend in order to avoid three different Opponents' swords. Three on one! Unfair!

"Hey, Pitch, let's shake this up a bit!" Jack exclaimed. He'd teach those dastardly Opponents to team up on him!

Pitch whistled once, an agreement, then turned briefly to grab Jack by the staff and hurl him straight up.

This only worked in certain places, so Pitch generally followed Jack's lead when they were picking out a spot to defend themselves in. The gravity stream he had thrown Jack into was the stream that led back to their bridge, so Jack had a brief airtime to use however he wished. Of course, he used it to do what he did best-made a little ice.

Or a lot of ice. As he spun through the air, he created and released sharpened icicle daggers in a cone surrounding Pitch's position, and Pitch stabbed the Opponents from below with his shadows. It was a clean, easy way of getting rid of masses of Opponents, but it left Pitch on his own for a bit and had to be timed precisely. There was a bonus in that Jack had some more area to look for the exit in, though, so it was sometimes worth it.

In this case, it was. Jack could see the portal from the air, and it wasn't unbearably far-they'd be able to get there before the next wave of Opponents came, if they were careful about it.

"Found it, let's go!" Jack called, landing again as he landed. Pitch quickly spun his scythe-nearly taking Jack's head off _again_-to dispatch the rest of the Opponents, and followed Jack into a stream of gravity.

Angling himself precisely, Jack grabbed Pitch so that neither of them would get left behind and dove through the portal without ever touching the ground.

They landed roughly, in a tangle of limbs and staff and shadow that left the scythe a hairsbreadth from Jack's left eye and Jack's staff hooked around Pitch's shoulder.

"Woah, watch the face! I kind of need it, you know." He informed Pitch when the Bogeyman didn't immediately remove his Giant Blade of Doom.

He could _hear_ Pitch's frown. "Don't tell me what to do, I am your elder. I will remove any threats to your person when I see fit." Jack laughed, managing to lean backwards and somehow disentangle himself without getting his head removed from his body.

"Whatever. See you at the next meeting, yeah? And you better not steal my smoothie this time-I'm watching you!" He called back, brushing himself off and hopping onto the Wind. He completely missed Pitch's amused smirk as he flew away.

* * *

**Happy Birthday to me~**

**Happy Birthday to me~**

**I wanted to update on my Birthday~**

**But I couldn't because I was lazy and only wrote one chapter and had to edit it before publishing~**

**That was my Birthday song. I wrote it just for this story, so I hope you all appreciate it!**

**Updates will be a bit slow during testing, but soon it'll be summer and I'll have some more time!**


	4. Jack is Also Wrong

Pitch Black had never considered that he could get involved with someone as obnoxious as Jack Frost.

He really, really hadn't.

However, he _had_ been curious about the portal opening in the middle of nowhere, and been foolish enough to go in. From that point on, he'd been doomed, because Jack had found him and given him up for dead immediately. By 'giving him up for dead,' Jack had clearly meant 'resolved to stand on his side against the Opponents,' and it hadn't been too long before there were simply too many Opponents to eliminate all of them alone. Since the Boogeyman did _not_ retreat, Pitch had been forced into a reluctant alliance of sorts.

He had quickly turned that into a real alliance, complete with a treaty and conditions under which certain behaviors were acceptable. It had been advantageous to see how far their alliance would stretch by attempting to take over the world. He'd even considered, briefly, making Jack into one of his minions. Jack's attitude had quickly discouraged that, though.

Jack was flippant, irreverent to the point that Pitch wondered whether the boy had a respectful bone in his body. But as soon as he was taken out of his normal environment, he became fiercely independent, refusing help, advice, or even company. Surprise him and he would lose all of his snark, turning into a wild, free creature of cold and ice, which Pitch supposed was what he was, really.

He also felt protective of roughly _everyone under the sun_. Jack couldn't stand seeing people in pain, which may have been why he'd saved Pitch's life in the first place. And if you tapped that protectiveness, Jack was perfectly willing to do anything at all to prevent those under his care from getting hurt. Pitch speculated that Jack must have lost someone to the Colosseum, since he absolutely refused to be delayed when a portal opened. He also was very stubborn about Pitch himself not dying in the Colosseum. He likely felt that any and all deaths in the Colosseum were his responsibility somehow, which was ridiculous and just like Jack to think. Of course, that was all speculation, but Pitch was fairly confident is his conclusions.

Not that Pitch cared. He wasn't Jack's therapist, and he hardly cared about how the younger spirit _felt_. He didn't care about Jack at all, except in that Pitch's expected lifespan would shorten dramatically if Jack were to die or get too hurt, mentally or physically. It wasn't just bleeding wounds that took the fight out of someone. Therefore, it was strategic to prevent Jack from dying or becoming permanently mentally scarred in order to preserve his own existence. That was the only reason he bothered with him. Really.

Pitch happened to have extraordinary powers of self-delusion.

It didn't especially matter what he thought he felt about his ally in a moment, though, because he felt a flicker of familiar fear. Jack had a specific kind of fear, and it was even more unique when it was a fear of someone under his care getting hurt. Pitch had isolated what Jack's fear felt like when a portal opened over the years, and he knew now to be alert as soon as he felt it. It was a tiny flicker of fear, but it gave Pitch some warning of when a portal was going to open.

Carefully, he felt for the familiar fear. There may be an open portal, which meant that Pitch would be sent through another in minutes, but it was probably only a warning that a portal was going to open in an hour or so.

Understandably, he was surprised when that fear spiked into something completely different. Nothing Pitch would have noticed unless he was already concentrating on Jack's fear, but certainly something unexpected. Indeed, even as he was thinking of it, the ear spiked into panic and Pitch gathered that Jack was worried about not getting to the portal in time.

This was...disconcerting.

Due to some unknown part of Jack's magic, he could get nearly anywhere in the world very quickly if he really wanted to. Even the equator wasn't really a challenge for him, since he could simply freeze it over if he needed to. So why was he worried about not getting to the portal in time?

The obvious conclusion presented itself to Pitch: Jack was trapped. If Jack couldn't leave somewhere, he couldn't get to the portal. But who would want to trap a neutral winter spirit whose only point of interest was an abundance of natural power?

Oh. Jack wasn't neutral anymore.

This...this had the potential to be very bad.

Pitch could be jumping to conclusions, but Jack had ascended the ranks of spirits very quickly, going from a free spirit that didn't care for spirit politics to one of the five most powerful 'good' legends in the world. That could incite some pretty impressive jealousy quickly...

But no, Pitch was jumping to conclusions. Jack had probably waited too long to go to the portal and was now worried that it had opened because he'd waited so long. Pitch just had to wait a minute for that fear to drop completely off the map as it always did when Jack had entered the Colosseum and Pitch hadn't. He was fairly sure he couldn't sense the fear of anyone in a plane that he himself wasn't on, and Jack would be through the portal soon.

Any minute now...

_Come on, you infernal brat..._

Jack's fear was rising even higher, and he still wasn't moving. Pitch swore. But before he could go to his ally's aid, he was swallowed by a portal.

There was nothing he could do now but wait, and keep himself alive until Jack escaped.

He hoped that Jack _would_ escape.

* * *

Jack laughed as he dropped into North's workshop, the Wind tossing him dangerously close to the giant globe before catching him and tossing him to the floor. He'd only just finished his sacred duty of snowing in an entire town in Canada-though, really, he was fairly sure they'd barely notice as he did this all the time-and was quite ready for a visit with another spirit. Sadly, Pitch had gone somewhere to lick his wounds and hadn't been available for harassment, but North would do in a pinch. Besides, there was a portal getting ready to open sometime today or tomorrow, so he'd be seeing the Boogeyman soon.

"Hey North! Anyone home?" He called to the Workshop in general. Several yetis grumbled at him in general assent, pointing to a nice living room/parlor placed just off the control room with the globe in it before returning to work. Jack headed off in the opposite direction just for fun, freezing his favorite elf as he went. After all, if North didn't know he'd arrived yet, there was no reason for him not to explore!

Since lefts were nice turns to make, Jack decided to take the fifth left he saw, then two rights, middle fork, left, staircase, left, window, hole in the wall...

In no time, Jack was completely lost and having the time of his life. No one was around this corner of the Workshop, and there was so much cool stuff! The floor was ancient and the walls were falling apart, and there were whole _shelves_ of books older than he was, cracked hammers, rusted swords, even a giant jade elephant that had long since been scratched up and chipped within an inch of its life. Jack made sure to greet everything with a face, because you really never knew what might be alive somehow. He'd even gotten into an interesting conversation with an enchanted teapot once about the intricacies of parkour.

Alas; all good things must come to an end. The Wind swooped into the room he was in to warn him that the Guardians were coming-yes, all of them, and they were very concerned about why he'd 'avoided' them in favor of exploring, Jack don't touch that!-and that he probably should act like he was doing something at least remotely useful.

Personally, Jack didn't see the issue here. The Guardians didn't care about where he went, and North's place was interesting. The Wind knew that Jack's very favorite hobby outside of killing Opponents was getting lost in interesting places, and the Guardians would get used to it eventually.

Sure enough, Jack could hear the utterly unsubtle tromping-and-chatter of the Guardians approaching, along with the creak of the ancient floor. Really, he should teach them more about stealth; Jack may not exactly be subtle himself, but he certainly knew how to sneak around when he wanted to!

Just to prove it, Jack hid behind the worn jade elephant, _shush_ing the Wind as he did so. The other Guardians couldn't hear the Wind like Jack could, but the swooshing noise was a dead giveaway.

"-makes me concerned," Tooth's voice floated through the door.

"I know, sheila, but I'm telling you it's to make him feel safe. He needs to see for himself that there's nothing here that could hurt him, and he didn't just ask for a tour so that we wouldn't be able to hide anything! You'd be a little suspicious of all the attention after three hundred years of nothing, too. He needs to make sure he can trust us, and if we keep him from running off next time, he'll start learning how to stick around with us for longer and he'll stop sneaking around on us. Otherwise, he'll keep on disappearing like this!" Bunny's voice resounded, louder and louder as the Guardians came closer and closer to where Jack was.

They were talking about Jack? It sounded like it. Jack fought off a snort of amusement. Yes, he was 'sneaking around' because he 'didn't feel safe.' Of course. It wasn't that he was curious and wanted to find out for himself what North's workshop was like, oh no! _Clearly_, he was vastly insecure and untrusting. No other possible solution.

Quietly, Jack peeked out from under the elephant-he was awkwardly hovering behind its body, but a good hover was hard to keep up for a long time and he wanted to see if he could stand without being seen. He jumped back behind his cover when the door began to open.

"Jack must have been here recently, the door's still cold," Tooth whispered.

"Everyone shush!" North whispered, significantly louder than Tooth.

Well, since it didn't look like they were going to be saying anything juicy anytime soon now that they'd noticed his presence, Jack flipped up to the top of the elephant. "Wow, I go exploring just once and I've got all of the Guardians looking for me. Don't you guys have jobs to do? Well, except Bunny, of course, he's just got Easter," Jack taunted from the top of the elephant.

Strangely enough, Bunny didn't rise to the bait. Instead he nodded to Tooth sharply.

"Jack, if you feel safe doing it, could you please come down?" Tooth asked delicately, flying up to be at eye level but not too close to him. Like he was a wounded animal, and she had to be very careful to keep him from running away and out of safety.

Jack was beginning to think that he didn't trust this.

"Sure," he agreed easily, disguising his suspicion with flippancy. After all, what was the worst the Guardians would do? It wasn't like they would tie him to a chair or anything.

Tooth smiled like he had given her a million dollars and flew to the window, shutting it. North nudged the door shut.

Jack _definitely_ didn't trust this.

"So what's up? You're acting like I'm gonna run away or something," Jack said, stealthily bringing the butt of his staff to rest on the floor and spread frost. He began to feel a niggling worry-with all this talk of trust, he was beginning to think they may have found out about the Colosseum, which would be a disaster. The Guardians would never understand that he needed to keep their enemy alive to supply his drinks. He maintained that blueberry shakes were worth the potential danger to children worldwide, but the Guardians might see things differently.

He was faced with smiles showing varying degrees of strain all around him.

"Frostbite," Bunny began gruffly, then he corrected himself. "Jack."

Jack nodded-that was, after all, his name, and while he was technically the _cause_ of frostbite and not the affliction itself, he supposed that 'Frostbite' was a good enough nickname.

This time it was North who stepped forward. "Jackfrost. You are trusting us, yes? You are liking us well?"

Well, that was a bit of an odd question. Was there a reason he _shouldn't_ be trusting the Guardians?

Eventually, he decided to go with "Yes, insofar as the sun never sees the moon." Hah! Let them interpret _that_.

The others exchanged glances, and Sandy made some images that meant absolutely nothing to  
Jack. He guessed that they were realizing that the sun actually 'saw' the moon all the time except for during the new moon, but also never saw it because there was no man in the sun.

There was a niggling at the back of his mind that meant a portal was opening. That meant it was time to go, then-not that Jack regretted it. This was one of the most awkward conversations he'd ever been a part of, and he talked with _Pitch_ regularly.

"Well, not that this conversations hasn't been...ah..._entertaining_, but I've gotta go. Places to meet, people to go, you know," Jack announced casually, retracting all of the coldness he'd created from an oblong circle of floor around him as he spoke, carefully including the elephant. The frost melted into water, which soaked into the ancient wooden floor and weakened it. Jack had no weight to speak of, but a giant jade elephant was enough to crash through the weakened floor and send Jack crashing with it.

Just before he could escape from this frankly alarming and somewhat terrifyingly strange conversation, Jack felt a stream of golden sand wrap gently around his ankle.

"Oh, no, mate. Yer not gettin' out of this so easily." Bunny hopped down to the new room he found himself in, which gave the sterile and impersonal feel of a guest bedroom. Jack felt the barest flickers of panic in the corners of his mind-what if he couldn't get to the portal in time?

But no, that wasn't something to be pondering. He _would_ get to the portal, and _no one_ would die.

Jack smiled, despite the dreamsand that was becoming more and more restricting. "That's great, but I really, really have to go, so if you could quit it with the dreamsand...? This isn't really very comfortable, terrible kidnapping etiquette, you know."

He heard a movement behind him. He'd forgotten to keep track of Sandy...! He felt a moment of horror, and the next moment, he was waking up tied to a chair.

And here he'd said specifically that the Guardians_ wouldn't_ do that.

* * *

**I am dead. Dead is what I am, and there is no dead that is not me.**

**Thankfully, I have free time now and will thusly pick back up on my updating speed. Thanks for your patience!**


	5. Wind is Actually Important for Once

This was bad. This was very bad.

Not only was Jack currently_ tied to a chair_, he could feel the portal opening somewhere in the world. He'd felt another portal, too, but only briefly-Pitch was already in the Colosseum. Jack respected Pitch's power and handiness in a fight, but he was worried. No one could survive long alone in the Colosseum as it was-that was why they were allies in the first place! But Pitch was there now, and Jack needed to be there before his ally got himself killed. With no allies, he'd have no one to harass!

He glared balefully at the semicircle of Guardians around him. If Pitch died because of them, Jack would do worse than the Blizzard of '68. On a serious note, since situations like these generally required seriousness, Jack would probably go rogue if Pitch died because of the Guardians. He would never be able to trust them or work with them knowing they'd kept him from the Colosseum when he was needed there the most. The portal was still open, which meant that not a lot of time had passed, but Jack didn't want to think of what would happen to Pitch if he delayed any longer, not to mention whatever poor soul managed to find the portal before Jack did. It was like a bad movie-the Guardians were holding Pitch hostage and threatening to kill him unless Jack could convince them to let him go, and they didn't even know it-the Guardians themselves probably thought they were holding _Jack_ hostage, which was just ridiculous. Jack never got into that kind of trouble, especially not with the Guardians. Discounting, of course, the majority of his previous encounters with them.

Well, might as well get cracking. Jack knew very well how to be a terrible hostage, and had gotten himself out of trouble many times by simply being himself until people let him go. Oddly enough, these people tended to ask Jack never to interact with them again.

Jack pouted. "Honestly, if I didn't know better, I'd think you just tied me to a chair and kept me from having adventures and causing havoc. But you guys wouldn't do that to me, would you?" He asked, putting his baby blue eyes and excellent pout to good use.

"Yes," Bunny started, radiating aggression and tension.

Jack cut him off before he could say any more.

"But-Bunny! I thought we had something here! I trusted you, and I gave you the very depths of my heart, and you would still be so cruel to me?" The exaggerated pout and puppy dog eyes were starting to hurt his face. Bunny snarled, but quickly calmed himself.

"Look, kid, We're just doing this to show you that it's safe to stay with us, even if you sometimes feel uncomfortable. It's not the end of the world, yeah?" It would be the end of Pitch's world.

Shaking off that train of thought, Jack noted that Bunny seemed to be the ringleader of this project. He would have to remember that Bunny was clearly into kidnapping people and not to be trusted. Actually, Bunny was involved with most of Jack's kidnappings, wasn't he?

Jack felt a flicker in the bit of magic he'd put into Pitch so many years ago. It could mean nothing, but...

"You know, making me feel safe and happy usually doesn't involve tying me into a chair. In fact, I think you should see someone about that-you kidnap me kind of a lot." Jack quipped, subtly, feeling the knots he was bound by for weaknesses. He was suddenly not feeling up to simply _waiting_ to be set free. Not while his first ever ally was in such danger.

"Jack, do not fight against zhe ropes. Zhey are made to stay, and zhey will stop you from freezing anything," North told him, noticing Jack's attempt as soon as it began.

Jack swore within the safety of his mind, though outwardly he just continued pouting. If he couldn't use his powers and he wasn't willing to wait...well, there were a few things he could do. He didn't like them, but he might be able to do them. Well, one decent option to check forst, he supposed.

_Hey, Wind!_

_Jack!_

_Can you get to me?_

_No, I can't! What's going on, are you in danger?_

_Not yet, I don't think. If I get out of here, can you get to me? Is it a window stopping you or something magical?_

_Magic, I can barely even feel you. Is it a spell or a ward?_

Now that was a good question. A ward would be placed on a particular area or object, and as soon as Jack wasn't touching it, he wouldn't be affected by whatever was dampening his connection with the Wind. A spell would be placed on Jack, and it might dispel if he could get to the Colosseum, but otherwise he was stuck until the caster dispelled it, got distracted, or ran out of energy, whichever came first.

He could still feel his connection with Pitch, though. That gave him enough determination to take desperate measures, if need be.

_A spell is stopping me from getting to my magic, wards are probably what's stopping you from getting in. The Pole is one of the most heavily warded places I know. Here's where I am._

Jack sent an image of the room to Wind, even though he knew that the wards hadn't been adjusted to exclude his friend until after he'd been unconscious.

_Jack. Jack, do you trust me?_

_Normally, yes. After you've asked that question..._

Wind sent him a wave of amusement-their bond was a bond that went as deep as their souls, since Wind had given Jack magic just like Jack had done to Pitch. The difference was that Jack had given magic back, allowing their connection to grow both ways. The downside of this was that Jack knew that his friend was up to no good.

_Wind!_

_Calm down, it'll just be a moment now and I can get you out. Give me a couple more seconds..._

Jack could feel the room he was in tilt. It lurched to the side, knocking everyone inside of it off their feet, though Jack's chair miraculously remained upright. The jade elephant, still standing on the ruins of the bed, was knocked through the wall. The distraction made whoever had cast the spell suppressing Jack's magic dispel it solely through lack of concentration, and Jack rejoiced. Now he could get things done!

With a moment's concentration, Jack froze the chair so suddenly and thoroughly that it splintered, loosening his bonds until he could break the chair with no trouble, simply a hard enough crash on the ground. He ran to the gaping hole in the wall before any of the Guardians could react, perching at the edge and seeing what had happened.

The entire Workshop, as well as the ground under it, had tilted. Jack was looking over a dizzying drop to an icy death.

Good thing icy deaths had never been a problem for him.

"Jack, that's a long drop and you can't fly right now," Tooth warned him, getting up from the wall that was about as close to horizontal now as the floor was. "Just clam down and we can talk about this. I admit we may have been hasty, just please step away from the ledge? Even you wouldn't survive a fall like that."

Jack smirked, hoping desperately that this would work. "You wanna bet?" He asked, grinning at the Guardians as he took one step back and out of the room.

His guess was proven correct as the Wind caught him the instant he'd left the building. Wind had only been banned from entering the Workshop, and probably then only as a precaution, since the Guardians weren't entirely convinced that the Wind was a separate entity from Jack.

Ah, the joys of having friends who people thought didn't exist.

_Should you be seeing a psychiatrist about these latent suicidal tendencies of yours? I mean, jumping out of towers isn't a good sign, _Wind teased gently.

_Hey, this is all your fault! You were the one who managed to tip the whole building-how did you do that?_

_Dug a big circle under it, left a tiny piece there for the whole thing to stand on, tipped the scale. That's not important, though, what's important is for you to know that I'm always here for you. If you ever feel like you want to jump out of a tower again, I want you to-_

_Yeah, yeah, you're hilarious. Shouldn't _you_ be seeing the psychiatrist for coming up with this crazy plan?_

Wind gave the impression of sniffing. _I was just going to shake it back and forth until they let you go. You were the one who had to have an action hero escape. Besides, no one else can talk to me._

That was right-Jack was the only person they knew of who could directly talk to the Wind. He was pretty sure Wind had been the one who decided that that would be the case, though, so he didn't look into fixing it as he might have otherwise.

_Hmm. Maybe I _should_ see that psychiatrist-after all, I'm hearing a voice no one else can hear. It tells me to do evil things like be more careful and see a psychiatrist. Yep, I'd better work on getting rid of it._

Wind laughed, and they finally arrived at the portal. Jack felt himself tensing up in anticipation, feeling through the bond that Pitch was somehow still alive.

He dove into the portal...

And of _course_ he dove straight into that path of a sword that was about to catch Pitch unawares. And of _course_ he took a glancing wound to the shoulder, because why not? At least he'd prevented Pitch from getting stabbed in the back. Even though the ungrateful man would probably never thank him for it.

* * *

Nicholas St. North was not a man often shocked. He was surprised every day-living in a place dedicated entirely to wonder did that to a person-but true, absolute shock was altogether foreign to him.

He thought that it may be coming back to his life now, in the form of Jack Frost.

Jack Frost who had managed to _tip over_ the _entirety_ of North's workshop without access to his magic. And then had had the cleverness to use North's shock to his advantage, jumping out the window before North could reestablish the spell that limited most of Jack's magic. What he hadn't sealed was the magic attached to Jack's soul-there had been strings of magic attaching his soul to his body, and to the Man in the Moon (presumably), and to at least one other entity. North hadn't dared touch those for fear of killing the boy or cutting off his magic forever.

How had Jack managed what he had with only enough magic to keep himself alive? The yetis had reported that a bowl of earth below the Workshop had been scooped out, leaving the entire building as well as the mountain it was built into resting on a single pillar of dirt, which had then been pushed over to tip the structure to the side.

It simply wasn't _possible_. How could Jack have accomplished an incredible feat of magic when he had nearly no magic?

Perhaps it had all been an elaborate prank? But no, even Jack could not plan such a thing so perfectly. In fact, the pieces had all fallen into place so well that North suspected that it had been entirely made up on the spot. There was simply no other explanation for the plan adapting to exactly what Jack had needed in the moment.

North watched Bunny pace up and down in the Warren, which had been their replacement meeting spot as long as the Pole was...out of commission. The Pooka was frustrated and surprised in equal measure, North knew, and was growing some respect for Jack despite himself. Tooth and Sandy hadn't been able to keep from their duties any longer unless a true emergency happened, but Tooth had left one of her fairies so they they'd be able to contact her if anything happened.

So far, all they knew was that Jack had disappeared and they had no idea how or why or even where.

North didn't know yet how much he'd regret learning the answers.

* * *

**Hi! Thanks for the read, I actually have nothing to say down here.**

**Thanks anon reviewers (especially candle dark the Ever Faithful), you're awesome and I dearly wish I could respond to your reviews! -cough-get an account please I beg of you-cough-**

**As always, praise be to my beta Tomoyo-chan284. Without her I would never be able to convey what I actually mean, as I never use nouns and overuse pronouns. Thank you!**


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